Arachne
by TheLonelyMan
Summary: This is a retelling of the classic myth, "Arachne". Please enjoy.


Deep in the interior of Greece lay a bustling city known as Lydia. Its inhabitants made their wealth through the spinning and dying of cloth. One such Lydian was Idmon, whose family had practiced weaving for generations. The patterns and images of their work was famous throughout all of Greece and abroad, making Idmon very wealthy. He spent most of his fortune on his only daughter, Arachne, a talented weaver who was nonetheless known for her vanity and arrogance. Many times, she would chase away the young men and nymphs who came to watch her work, displeasing her father greatly.

"My dearest Arachne, are you to spend your entire life before the loom? Is it to be your husband? Are your weavings to be your children?"

"You must let me work, Father. I will marry only when I am satisfied."

"Satisfied of what?"

"That my work is better than any woman or nymph. That not even Minerva could produce better."

"You must hold your tongue, my daughter. Minerva is prideful. She will not tolerate your insolence."

"If she is so upset, let her come and confront me!"

Unknown to both, Minerva was indeed listening.

"How dare that insolent girl claim to be the better of me! I am a daughter of Jupiter and she is the offspring of a lowly wool-shearer! Perhaps she will repent if someone with some sense approaches her."

Using her gift of wisdom, Minerva took the form of an elderly woman dressed in a black shroud. With her cane leading the way, she visited Idmon's shop.

"Are you Idmon? I am told your daughter produces the finest weavings."

"Do you wish to buy one? We have many stored here."

"Yes, but I have a small request. Could you not permit me to ask your daughter to make it?"

"I warn you, she is not welcoming of guests."

"That does not trouble me. I am old, and surely she will not speak ill of an elder."

Idmon helped the woman into his cart and returned home. He then led her to Arachne's chambers.

"Why do you disturb me, Father?"

"Patience, my daughter. I have brought a patron to visit you. She seeks the aid of your skills."

"Greetings, young one. May I know your name?"

"Arachne. What is it you want?"

"I will tell you. But first I invoke the blessing of Minerva. May she grant you the knowledge necessary to carry out this task."

"I need no such thing. My skills surpass hers."

"Such disrespect! You should be grateful that she has not yet punished you for such hubris!"

"Remove this old woman, Father!"

As soon as Idmon grabbed her arm, he fainted. The old woman shrugged off her cloak and stood tall as her wrinkled skin smoothed and her white hair turned dark. Her cane straightened and sharpened until it became a large spear.

"I am Minerva, goddess of the loom you work upon! You say you are better than me? Prove it! We will hold a competition!"

Suddenly a golden loom appeared before her. Minerva planted her spear firmly in the ground and seated herself.

"Sit beside me, girl!"

Arachne did as she was commanded. Minerva wove a frame over the loom and the two began to weave. Minerva made a great tapestry of her home, Olympus. She portrayed each god as a mighty enthroned figure, with Jupiter wielding his thunderbolt, Neptune holding his trident, and Minerva herself with shield and spear. Arachne made a number of panels, each showing a god assuming the form of an animal or human as he seduced a mortal woman and produced disfigured offspring. As the two finished, they lay their hands down and judged each other's work.

Even the vain Arachne complimented Minerva's tapestry, but the goddess had no such kind words for her rival. Enraged by the befoulment of her kin, she ripped Arachne's work to pieces.

"You dare mock the gods, foolish girl! You will pay with your life!"

As she grabbed a wooden shuttle to strike Arachne, she found the girl readying a noose of cloth around her neck.

"You will not escape fate so easily! I will let you live, but in such a form that you will spin for the rest of your days!"

As she spoke, Minerva sprinkled a potion over Arachne's head and vanished. Idmon awoke from his slumber, unaware of what had happened.

"My dearest daughter, where have you gone?"

Suddenly, he spotted her dress and hairpins in a pile near the loom. Fearing the worst, he raced over and dug through them, frantically searching for his child. Underneath, all he found was a small black spider.

Enraged, Idmon was about to kill the spider when he noticed it was the same color as Arachne's hair. Realizing what had happened, he took the creature in his hands and petted it softly.

"Oh, my daughter. You are small and round, with spindly legs where your nimble fingers once were. You will forever spin your own looms and your children will as well. Oh why, Minerva? Why did you not kill her so that I would have her body? Now I must send her to the woods, my own flesh and blood!"

And with that, Idmon left Lydia, never to return. Arachne spun webs for the rest of her life, and her descendants have done so ever since.


End file.
